


Writing Lessons

by Nerieda



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Cockwarming, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerieda/pseuds/Nerieda
Summary: Diavolo wants you to rewrite a report of yours he can't read.  He finds a way to "motivate" you into getting it done.
Relationships: Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 464





	Writing Lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wintercelestial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercelestial/gifts).



> @lord-diavolo over on tumblr had an anonymous request along these lines. They wrote a short 300 word drabble on the idea and later when we were talking about it and I proposed another headcanon on the idea, they told me to write the fic.

You had just made it out the front doors of RAD, your classes are done for the day. You stopped at the sound of your DDD notifying you of an incoming text. Figuring one of the brothers wanted to walk home with you, you opened it, surprised to see a new message from Diavolo instead.

There’s been an issue with your last exchange report. Would you please stop by my office before you head home? I’ve let Lucifer know that I will see that you get home safely.

You stopped, head cocked at the message. You weren’t sure what could have possibly been wrong with the report you dropped off earlier that afternoon. But, one didn’t argue with Diavolo.

Sure! I hadn’t left campus yet, I’ll be there in a few minutes.

You turned on your heel, jogging up the steps back to the large doors. You slipped through, shouldering your bag more comfortably as you made your way through the halls and up the stairs to where you knew the Prince’s offices were. The door was closed, so you knocked smartly on the door, waiting for him to tell you it was okay to enter. You waited, surprised when the door swung open, Diavolo smiling at you from the other side. He had removed his uniform jacket and tie already, obviously planning on working here for a few hours yet, and had made himself comfortable now that the building was emptying for the evening.

He stood aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. The faint click of the lock made a small tendril of concern work it’s way into your brain, but you squashed it. Out of any of the demons, you really didn’t think you had cause to fear him, because you knew you were minding yourself, not causing any trouble aside from the upheavals you’d caused in the House of Lamentation.

“You needed to see me, sir?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “I mean, Diavolo? I know I sent the report in on time, and I had all the information in it.”

Diavolo laughed, a hand lightly on your back to lead you across the room to his desk. You could see your report on the glossy wood, a blank report next to it along with plenty of sheets that had lines of letters with space to write more. Funny, they looked like the kind school children used to learn how to write their letters.

“That’s the issue; I have to admit, I can’t read a thing on here to tell if the information is there or not. How is it that you have turned in totally fine reports up until now?” You flushed, looking down at the floor and mumbling an answer. “I’m sorry, my dear? I didn’t understand that.” There was humor in his voice, making you fairly certain he had heard you, but you sighed, looking up.

”I’ve been having Satan write it out for me while I dictated it. But I forgot about today’s and he wasn’t around so I had to do it myself.” 

He motioned to his chair pulled up to the desk, still half smiling. “Have a seat. I don’t have any pressing matters tonight, so I thought we’d take the time to work on your penmanship.”

You held up your hands. “Why don’t I just go over the contents instead?” 

It wasn’t that you minded spending the next hour or more with Diavolo. Quite the opposite. You had a monster of a crush on the prince, but there was no way anyone other than the brothers would ever know. Asmo knew, of course. It was impossible to keep anything desire related hidden from him. Lucifer was the one most often with you when you were around Diavolo, so of course, he’d figured it out fairly quickly. Now, the thought of being in his office after most everyone had headed home, the memory of the lock clicking into place, had your heart lurching in your chest. 

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, I need a legible copy for the records.” He simpered. “And surely you aren’t going to give me more work by making me write it for you?” You shook your head no quickly and he grinned. “Besides, you’d be in this same predicament if Satan isn’t available next time. So, lessons. Sit.”

You were out of arguments, so you sat down, Diavolo scooting the heavy chair forward up to the desk for you. You pulled your pen out of your bag, reaching for the blank report copy. Diavolo’s hand reached out, gently grasping your wrist before you could start writing. 

“Ah ah. You need to walk before you run.” He leaned over your shoulder, pulling the sheets of teaching pages closer. He tapped at the beginning of the first one. “I want to see legible improvement before I let you write your report.” You turned around and gawped at him, earning a chuckle. “Don’t worry; my schedule is cleared for the rest of the night if needs be.” He nodded to the desk, smiling and crossing his arms over his chest.

Defeated, you turned back around, trying to tamp down the shame at being forced to draw your letters like a child. And through it all, you could feel Diavolo standing right behind your shoulder. You tried to ignore him, tried not to think about it but he was so close, and you knew he was watching you. 

You’d finished the first page without more than a few sounds from him. Then his hand was on your shoulder. “Stand up for a moment, please.” You looked at him confused, but obliging, standing you felt his body press closer for a moment, then your hips pulled back until you sat back down. You dropped your pen, no doubt red in the face when you realized he’d sat you in his lap. The chair was moved closer to the desk again, one of his hands warm across your stomach to steady you. “Forgive me, but it was hard to monitor your progress from back there.” He chuckled, and you closed your eyes against the way that sound so close to your ear went straight to the pit of your stomach. 

You forced yourself to ignore the fact that you were sitting in Diavolo’s lap, knowing you had to get this done before you could leave for the evening to take care of the thoughts that now were flooding your mind. You focused as best you could, but the warmth coming off him against your back and along the backs of your thighs was a constant distraction. He leaned forward, pressing himself against you as he looked over your shoulder to check your writing. Fingers tapping on a line that even you could tell was too shaky to be acceptable, he tutted. “This won’t do; what to do, what to do?”

He snapped his fingers, making you jump. The movement was enough to make you realize that you weren’t the only one being affected by the current seating arrangement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open a drawer on the desk, a small bottle set on the table. At first, you were thinking it was ink, but the way it moved in the bottle was thicker. His chin rested on your shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist again, fingers toying with the belt of your uniform pants. 

”I have an idea for motivation if you are amenable.” He said softly in your ear. The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver up your spine. You swallowed thickly, unsure where this idea had come from, but you were not turning it down. Diavolo let out a pleased purr in your ear as you nodded your head slowly, not quite trusting your voice. His fingers made quick work of your belt, nudging you to stand up as he unfastened them as well, his free hand tugging them down your thighs. He reached for the bottle on the table, and you heard the faint sound of the cap opening. Fingers coated in warm liquid traced over your entrance, pulling a soft sound from your throat.

Fingers gently but quickly preparing you had you rocking your hips back against him. You barely heard the sound of his own belt unfastening, the shifting of cloth behind you. His fingers left your body with a final curl and you whined at the loss of contact. He laughed, guiding you back to him until you could feel the head of his cock, warm and slippery with more of the lube pressing against you. He pressed down on your hips gently as you lowered yourself, hissing at the stretch. You hadn’t expected him to be small by any means, but he was easily the largest you’d ever been with.

He waited until you were fully seated on him, both of you sighing at the feeling. When you went to raise up, his hands clamped on your hips, gently but firmly keeping you in place. “Ah. I should have been more clear; this is the motivation. You get the rest when and if you finish your work.” He pulled the chair closer to the desk again, seemingly oblivious to how the movements affected you. 

You closed your eyes to compose yourself, leaning forward to grab the next page, gasping at the shift of him inside you. If you had to write more slowly, otherwise you couldn’t keep the letters from shaking again. The prince’s neverending energy levels weren’t helping. The man could not sit still. Every few minutes he was shifting position again, hand on your stomach to help you balance. Each time it sent another thrill through your body, another moment hoping he’d tire of his game and just fuck you; you could get the work done after. But instead, he’d look at your progress, fingers rubbing lightly over your lower belly.

Finally after what felt like an eternity of whimpering, teeth-gritting torture you finished the practice pages. “Excellent work! You still need more work, but at least it’s mostly legible now.” He chuckled as you gasped when he moved forward again, pulling a blank page to you. “Now, just show me you can write the report properly and we’ll be done.”

You got started writing, surprised at how still he was sitting now. You assumed he was as ready for you to finish the report as he was and started to relax. Your writing was still good as far as you could tell, but the pen was moving much quicker over the page. About a third of the way down the page, you were working on a particularly complicated section of writing when you heard a huff of laughter. Seconds later, Diavolo bucked his hips up hard into you. You dropped the pen, but not before the word you were writing was mucked up horribly. You glared over your shoulder at him, but he feigned ignorance, picking up the paper to look at the mistake. “Tsk tsk. I should make you start over,” He grinned as you gawped at him. “But I suppose one tiny error is an improvement, is It not?” 

You made sure to shift before turning to look at him, hearing the groan he tried to hide. “My lord is gracious.” You said with a smirk. You held your hand out for the paper, turning back to work with a shimmy of your hips that had his nails digging into the flesh. At last, you signed the bottom of the page, triumphantly handing the report to him. His eyes skimmed it, nodding before setting it aside.

”Much better. I can read it later. Now,” He pressed his hands to your belly again, grinding his hips up to yours with a growl. “I believe we have one last matter to attend to, don’t we, my dear?”  
You nodded, flexing your legs to move on his length. His fingers twitched against your skin and curious, you pressed your own hand just below his. The next time he moved, you gasped as you could feel the movement under your hand, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your front walls enough to feel.

With his own hands to help guide you, Diavolo and you set a rhythm as he fucked you. The office was filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and the moans, grunts, and growls of the two present. “Don’t stop moving.” He ground out, nipping at the shell of your ear as he commanded you. You moaned, nodding your head as you keep your hips rising and falling on his. One of his hands left your hip, pressing against your belly for a moment before moving lower, fingers beginning to work your sex. You keened, back-arching, whining when his own movements stopped. “I told you to keep moving.” The words were a shock, your hips automatically starting again. “Mmm. Good, pet. Just keep doing that for me.” His hand started working you again, expertly bringing the knot of warmth to the forefront until all you could think about was how badly you wanted to cum.

A few more moments and you felt the dam break, your walls clenching hard around Diavolo as your release tore through you, pulling him down with you. He held your hips tight to his and he emptied himself into you, the rumble of a growl in his chest where you were pressed against him, his nose buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You groaned, walls twitching again as you felt teeth press into the flesh, not hurting, just the pressure of a bite and the warmth of a tongue tasting the flesh.

As he pulled away, you moved to get off his lap. It took some help from him, and he kept his hands on your hips after you were standing, letting you get your balance back. You shuffled somewhat awkwardly to get your pants back in place, envious of the apparent ease he put himself back to rights. As you gathered the rest of your things to go, you noticed him putting the practice sheets into the trash, strangely enough, your newly written report on top. 

”Diavolo, sir?” He glanced up at you. “Aren’t you throwing the wrong copy away?”

He grinned broadly at you. “Oh! No, I didn’t actually need it, I just thought it would be a fun way to get you in my office for a few hours. A little birdie told me you were interested and I thought to see if it was true.” That’s it, you were killing Asmo as soon as you got home. Okay, maybe a shower first, but a close second.

He held up another paper, the writing not yours, but somehow even worse. “Have you seen Lucifer’s writing? Yours is a cakewalk in comparison.”


End file.
